


Exposure

by CharbroilLaFlamme



Series: Bioshock: Measurement of A Father [4]
Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, BioShock References, BioShock Spoilers, Gen, Rapture (BioShock), religious reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 21:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15446667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharbroilLaFlamme/pseuds/CharbroilLaFlamme
Summary: Sinclair meets a Little Sister as is protocol. Sinclair does not cope well with the revelation that he has fatherly feels.





	Exposure

**Author's Note:**

> These little AU tidbits are incredibly fun. I like taking smug, self-serving characters like Sinclair and forcing them into feels boxes.

Sinclair came face-to-face with one of the Little Sisters. He was being monitored by multiple doctors—Gil included, spearheading the operation.

 _This is a Little Sister_ , Sinclair stated to himself, frozen in place while she looked up at him, staring. She was similarly rooted where she was, balancing on her heels.

She had tiny hands. A button nose, a penetrating gaze. Fluty, piercing voice.

He swallowed his pride and knelt. “Hey there, little... _tyke_.” He said, forcing his softest voice.

He still couldn’t bring himself to see a human in those little glowing orbs called eyes.

_Come on, Augustus... these aren’t really little girls. Just little monsters shaped like ‘em._

The little girl in question greeted him with a big, uncanny smile.

These beings—stuck in their sunshiny, rosy delusion of angels and butterflies—were unaware of their role in Rapture as ADAM factories. Heads in the clouds.

Gil watched him fumble about, interacting with the child—awkward and detached as the baby girl showed him her extensive collection of bright-coloured stuffed animals.

Gil hated knowing what lie ahead. But knowing that if this worked, perhaps they could feel some comfort. No longer alone in the dark, dark world.

He saw the little one clutch Sinclair’s pointer finger and pull him along, still smiling.

As he looked on, he felt a mixture of hope and dread.

The man down below would become a gruesome simulacrum of a father figure to guide them and be guided. To accompany and be accompanied.

By all means, a convenient, living, breathing tool.

Gil had seen parents before. And it was wonderful, seeing the young and growing with their families.

Sinclair didn’t necessarily _emanate_ with parental possibilities. But it could be fine-tuned. Turned into something special. Something unbreakable. That passed for love.

Gil scoffed at himself. While this was a common protocol—gradual introduction of the Sisters into the candidate’s life—Sinclair couldn’t possibly comprehend it.

He was in too deep, set in his ways—his self-serving ways. Love was below him. And certainly parenthood itself was all a big  _joke_ to him. A scam. A trap.

Love was something incomprehensible to a startling many.

He looked back at Sinclair, noting his continued uneasiness.

But much to Gil’s honest surprise, Sinclair began to drop the unease. Bit by bit. 

Until the former businessman was listening raptly to the girl talk about her toys. Name by name. Rabbits and bears.

Gil could even see a smile slowly growing on Sinclair’s face.

The doctor felt a little comfort in this. Perhaps there was still hope for Sinclair after all.

 

* * *

 

About half an hour passed, and Sinclair was allowed to leave the room.

“How was your experience?” Gil inquired.

Sinclair refused to reply for a moment. And Gil let him take his time.

Eventually, Sinclair finally found his voice, but it was all too quiet. “Well, her name’s Marina,” He murmured. “She’s six years old, likes music, horses, and flowers.”

Gil watched Sinclair’s expression shift—from hardened and contemplative, to softened and vulnerable. “How can something not human be so goddamned _human_?” He stared in horror at his hands, where the toddling beast held his pointer finger in her tiny fist. “Why did they have to be little girls, why couldn’t they have been something else? Something I don’t _want_ to protect?”

His voice quavered with dismay, and his face was etched with confusion. “Is this what I have to look forward to, doc? Is this who I’m gonna be?“

Sinclair was showing his underbelly—his fears, insecurites, in this one, defining moment of clarity.

Gil let out an extended, tense breath. He wasn’t necessarily the best with these situations. “This usually helps the candidates cope with conversion. And meeting the Sisters eases the process immensely—makes protecting them far easier for the candidates.”

“My problem isn’t that I can’t _protect_ them, it’s that I can’t _hate_ them.” Sinclair said miserably. “Why did God have to go an’ make ‘em little girls, doc?”

Gil angled his eyes to Sinclair sympathetically. “Because God gives second chances—or so I’ve heard.” He said. “And you are a man who could use one.”

“So you’re saying that God makes fathers of terrible men?” Sinclair asked.

“I’m saying that some men are not too far gone, Sinclair. You are _not_ a terrible man.”

Sinclair looked at his medical band. “Marina said she couldn’t wait to meet her ‘new papa’.”

“Then let’s not keep her waiting for longer than is necessary.”

**Author's Note:**

> Notes!:  
> — I threw the name Marina in there because water—also I like the name.


End file.
